


a hell for lovers

by orphan_account



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Days after having kissed Brian--yeah, way to go Dex, that surely won't freak him out--Dexter still can't get the moment out of his head. </p>
<p>Alternate universe in which Harry adopted both Dex and Biney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a hell for lovers

Harry’s working late. Again. And Deb is over at… Someone’s house. Dexter wasn’t really paying attention. All he could think when she said that she was leaving was that he would be home alone with Brian for the first time since what he had come to refer to in his mind as The Incident.

And maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal as he thinks it is. But it feels like a big deal. He can still feel Brian’s lips on his, can still see the surprise and confusion in Brian’s eyes as he pulled away. Is still wondering what would have happened if Brian hadn’t pulled away.

Would it have gone farther? The scene plays out in his head. How it could’ve been. Brian kissing him back. Brian leading him backwards, pushing him against the wall. Pressing close. Lips trailing along his jawline, down his neck. Brian’s hands all over him.

And, okay, Dexter should really not be getting hard over thoughts of his brother. His moral compass hasn’t always exactly pointed north, but he knows—raging hormones aside—that incestuous thoughts aren’t normal. Then again, Dexter hasn’t ever fit in the category of Normal. Brian hasn’t either, not really. So maybe, for them, it’s not that big of a deal? If Brian says anything, maybe he can just pass it off as part of the hormones and shit that Dexter hasn’t gotten used to yet. Dex can play it off as muddled hormonal confusion. Brian’s a good big brother. Maybe he’ll understand.

And maybe he’ll understand that his little brother just wants to kiss him until his lips bleed and then find out what his face looks like when he comes.

Shit, either way, what Brian doesn’t know can’t upset him, right? So Dexter stretches out on his bed, letting his mind wander back to those thoughts. He pictures Brian crawling onto his bed, up his body, smiling down at him. Kissing him, softly at first, but then harder, dirtier. Brian’s body pressing down on his.

Dexter’s hand slides down, slipping under the waistband of his boxers. In his mind, it’s Brian’s hand. He bites down on his bottom lip, needing desperately to keep quiet. His door is locked, which gives him some sense of security, of privacy. But still. Brian is in the house somewhere.

And then of course, of fucking course, there’s Brian’s voice on the other side of the door. “Hey, Dex,” he calls, tapping lightly. Dexter bites down harder on his lip. That voice combined with what’s going on in his head is too much. “Dex, come on,” Brian calls, and Dexter can just picture him on the other side of that door, leaning on it nonchalantly, his hand trailing down the wooden frame. Those hands.

“Go away,” Dexter calls, but it comes out much more broken than he intended. It doesn’t even sound like his voice. The doorknob rattles as Brian tries to open it. Dexter holds his breath, his hand stilling in its motions. After a few seconds, he hears footsteps padding away from the door. Finally.

His hand starts moving again and he arches into it, eyes slipping shut. Brian’s voice is fresh on his mind. He imagines what that voice would sound like in here, in his bed, on top of him. What Brian would say. His whole body shivers at the idea.

Then the door swings open with a click and he stops dead, eyes wrenched open.

Dexter can picture pretty well what he must look like right now. Body stretched out, cock in hand, lips bruised and swollen. Face of a terrified little boy who just got caught doing something very very naughty. He half expects Brian laugh, or even just walk away. Close the door behind him and come back later, pretending it never happened. A full second passes that feels like a lifetime, Brian just looking at him, his expression carefully blank aside from the slight surprise in the widening of his eyes. And then he tilts his head, bites his lip, and smiles, all crooked and charming. Bastard. Bastard! Dexter can’t even help it, he whimpers. Barely audible but he knows Brian heard it.

Dexter knows he should try to cover up, or something. Anything. That would be normal and appropriate, right? Shy away from his brother walking in on him? But he can’t. He’s frozen. Brian’s gaze has paralyzed him, making his breath come short and his skin flush. And then Brian’s eyes are traveling the lines of his body, that crooked smile still in place. Dexter can’t make this make any sense. Brian pulled away from the kiss. He pulled away. There is no way that pulling away from a kiss equals staring at your brother lying naked on his bed. Okay, not entirely naked, but still. Something in his brain is not connecting. When Brian starts moving towards the bed, the rest of his brain just shuts down altogether.

And Brian isn’t just moving towards the bed, no, it’s like he’s fucking prowling. If Dexter didn’t know better—which he does, Brian pulled away remember? his mind keeps circling back to that—he would say that Brian’s eyes are glimmering with something like hunger. He can’t believe any of this is happening. He can’t. And if he doesn’t start moving his hand again soon, he thinks he probably won’t live to find out what this was all about anyway. His nerve endings are on fire and Brian’s dark gaze isn’t helping.

Brian moves gracefully, slowly, stopping once halfway and looking back at the door. Dexter half hopes that he’ll turn and leave because, god, he needs to finish, needs to be alone before he ends up coming just from watching his brother stalk towards him. But Brian’s smile just turns into something a little more mischievous, a little more determined, and he takes the last few steps to Dexter’s bed. His knees are touching the side and then he’s leaning over, placing his hand on the other side of Dexter’s shoulder and whispering softly in his ear, “Want a hand with that, little brother?”

The noise Dexter makes at that hardly even sounds human. His hips give an involuntary thrust and his whole body shudders. He feels Brian smiling, feels his lips against his ear when he whispers, “I’ll take that as an enthusiastic yes.” And then Brian is on the bed, curled slightly beside him, lips tracing his jaw and one leg thrown haphazardly over one of Dex’s. Brian’s hand blazes a trail across Dexter’s stomach, fingers feather light and leaving his nerves on fire in their wake. Caressing his skin, hipbone to hipbone, and Dexter can’t exactly remember how to breathe.

“B-Brian,” Dexter whispers, broken, arching into Brian’s touch, urging his hand to go lower, lower, please. Brian makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat, caught halfway between a moan and a growl, and Dexter thinks he might die from this. Brian nips at his jaw, the barest scrape of teeth. In the next moment, Brian’s hand reaches Dexter’s cock just as their lips finally meet. 

Dexter is pretty sure he’s going to die from this. And, if he believed in Hell, he thinks he’d be damn happy to go there if that was the price for having his brother’s tongue in his mouth, his brother’s hand on his cock, his brother’s straining erection rutting rhythmically against his hip. Not that there weren’t a myriad of other reasons for him to be sucked down into the fiery depths already.

Brian’s hand speeds up, his mouth leaving Dexter’s in order to place more kisses down his neck, bite and lick his way up Dex’s jawline, nibble at his ear. Dexter moans, hips thrusting into Brian’s firm grip.

“Want me to suck you off, baby brother? Hmm? Is that what you want? My lips wrapped around your cock,” Brian’s voice is rough and his breath is hot on Dexter’s neck. Dexter can feel himself start to fall apart at the seams.

Dexter can’t even formulate a response. He bites down on his lip hard enough to taste the metallic tang of blood, holding back a cry—and he’s undone. 

He melts into the mattress, shaking and exhausted, eyes fluttering closed. He can still hear Brian’s heavy breathing, feel the heat of his brother beside him. Then Brian rolls over. Dexter wonders for a second if he’s just going to get up and leave, not saying a word. But then he hears the unmistakable snick of jeans being unzipped.

Dex opens his eyes, watching as Brian unzips his jeans, releasing himself from the restricting clothing. Dexter looks at Brian’s face for the first time since he laid down on the bed, taking in the way his pupils are blown wide, the way his lips part with a sharp inhale as he takes himself in hand. 

Fuck, this is really happening.

Dexter mouths at his brother’s neck, smiling, embracing the moment while he can.


End file.
